Quidditch With the Boys
by Dora Liir-Took
Summary: When it's all over, what happens?  Maybe there's nothing to do but play all day.  Maybe then everything will be okay.


The world was spinning.

She had to get to the bridge but the world was spinning. There was no pain—no headache and she did not feel dizzy but she couldn't deny the fact that the world was spinning. In a circle of blues and grays and browns so quickly that she couldn't tell which way was up.

But she had to get to the bridge. Tonks could see it. She could hear the sound of her boots hitting the sodden wood and feel the heat of the explosions behind her. She would have turned and fired off another hex that would set the bridge on fire. And then she would run as fast as she could. She was literally burning bridges between herself and everything behind her.

Everything.

She would have done that. She swore she would have but suddenly she was down and she was spinning. She hadn't fallen here because surely she would have felt pain had she fallen down. No, she had to have been paid here. It felt cold and hard. Staring up at whatever was above her, Tonks knew she should be feeling pain. She should be having a headache because she was spinning so fast. But she didn't feel anything of the sort.

All she could really do was watch and wait as friction worked itself out. Slowly her world began to slow and slowly things began to come into focus. She could make out a pale gray sky and vines crisscrossing over it. The vines began to harden and their stretch didn't seem so large. They came from a single source and they didn't obscure all of the gray. Just a part of it. They reached across the gray sky in search of something and suddenly let loose a single browning leaf. The world stopped spinning and the leaf landed perfectly on Tonks' face. She was under a tree.

She felt around and found only hard, bumpy steal. She thought of the bridge. She willed herself to return to the bridge but no matter how tightly she closed her eyes, it wasn't there. It wasn't coming back. The bridge was no longer her problem. All she could do was stare at the canopy above her, brush off the leaf from her face and take in the gray, the blue and the brown.

It was really quite beautiful. It was like chinaware almost. Her great aunt Beverly had owned chinaware with delicate designs across the porcelain. Just like the trees. Tonks had rarely been allowed to handle such things because her mother feared for the safety of the china. But she could see the detail clearly now. It was light and free flowing and seemed to go on and on forever. There was no end to the vines. They were delicate and moved gently from one to the other. There were no harsh bends or sharp rights. Everything was smooth.

Somewhere off there was a voice. She couldn't make it out but she could hear a muffled sound accompanied by what sounded like the crunch of leaves. Tonks waited and again the voice presented itself again, this time louder. Unable to lift her head, Tonks allowed the voice to come even closer and call out again. A fourth time and she finally understood what it was saying.

"You must be Nymphadora."

It was a woman's voice and though terrified, Tonks didn't move. Her jaw felt heavy and she wondered if she had melted into the hard steal she laid on.

The crunching leaves got closer still and suddenly Tonks' view of the beautiful branches was blocked by a face, shrouded in the shadow the woman cast. Her hair could be seen clearly though—it was a deep crimson color, like autumn, like apples, like trees.

Again the woman spoke, "You must be Nymphadora," she held out her hand and when Tonks failed to take, she took hold of Tonks' own hand and pulled her to a sitting position. Even still, she felt no headache. No pain at all.

The red haired woman stood in the center of a large merry-go-round and Tonks laid askew with her feet pointed right at the woman. Around them stood the tree and a large field of nothing—just grass and gray and blue. It was then that Tonks noticed her feet; her feet were bare and her shoes were gone. The woman also wore no shoes despite the fact that every other aspect of her looked positively dressed up—nice gray trousers, a simple green sweater and a lone gold locket that hung low, close to her heart. Tonks took note of what she was wearing and realized she was not in her jeans or her zipper down sweatshirt or the tank top she had put on this morning. Her arms and legs remained exposed to the elements for all she had was a simple yellow sun dress.

"You must be Nymphadora," the woman must have impeccable patience. Tonks looked at her, still unable to comprehend anything that was going on but the woman still smiled and nodded her head saying, "Yes, it's real."

She held out her hands again to Tonks and pulled her to her feet. T he merry-go-round shifted a bit and Tonks held the woman's hands tighter, afraid of falling. She looked up to apologize for her clumsiness and then caught sight of the woman's eyes—she had seen them before.

"Lily…"

The red haired woman smiled even brighter, "Yes, I'm Lily. You must be Nymphadora."

Tonks didn't even object to her birth name. She nodded, astounded to finally see the girl—the girl she had seem so many times waving in the photographs, the woman who was in her wedding dress and standing next to James with Sirius not too far behind, the woman from all of Remus' stories and—

"Remus!" the name flew out of Tonks' mouth before she could stop it, "Is he alright? Where is he? Is he here?"

Lily held Tonks' hands tighter and guided her to the edge of the merry-go-round.

"Teddy!" was the next name out of Tonks' lips, "Mum…and Teddy…and what happened…and I was trying to get to the bridge and…Harry! I promised…I promised Remus I would get to the bridge! I _promised_ him! Did…I…" she stared at Lily, concentrating hard, "Did I get to the bridge on time? Did I take it out?"

But Lily only turned away, pulling Tonks along with her as if she had not heard the question, "Do you play Quidditch? I an awful mess at it but I'm told you're pretty good…"

"Is Remus here?" Tonks asked again.

"Of course," Lily grinned and it was then that the two women were engulfed in the gray. A thick fog overtook them—one that Tonks had not seen before. Following only the tug of Lily's hand and the hope that her husband was somewhere nearby, Tonks walked. Her feet would hit a rock. She felt the hard side but felt no stinging pain. She'd step on a rock and feel her concaved feet cover it but there was no ache to it. She and Lily came upon mud and they dropped through it, surprised by the warmth of the murk. Tonks felt the road they were following rise and suddenly the pair were walking uphill towards the sun. Oh, yes, it had to be the sun. It was a hotspot just atop this hill and though with each step, it seemed the hill got steeper and steeper, Tonks felt a greater need to reach the top.

Just as she thought, upon reaching its peak the clouds cleared and a valley laid beneath them. If before had been autumn, this place was definitely summer. There was a hot sun beating down and a lake that stretched out as far as the eye could see. There were vacationers in the sand, some making a sandcastle and some sitting in fold out chairs, just baking in the sun. There were a few stray brooms in the air, carrying people who sped across the scene laughing and calling back to one another. Down at one far end, Tonks could see three hoops set up and when she looked towards the other far end, the same.

"Quidditch," she smiled.

Lily nodded, "Peter is getting better everyday. It's all thanks to you dad, really."

"My…my dad?"

Lifting a finger to the sky, Lily pointed out one of the lone brooms and there, perched high above everyone else, wearing a pair of goofy goggles and a colorful Hufflepuff scar was Ted Tonks. He was clearly playing seeker and kept a close eye on the flailing ball of red not too far below that was searching for the snitch as well. Peter Pettigrew.

Two others were flying around, pushing each other about and stealing Quaffles, laughing loudly and swearing often. Sirius and James. And then down by the left group of hoops sat another person on his broom. This keeper was gripping his broom tightly and looking slightly terrified of any flying objects that his friends might be sending his way.

And then the wind blew. Upwind of Tonks. The scent rolled onto the makeshift Quidditch field and the alarmed looking keeper loosened his grip. With that, Remus flew down to meet his wife.

He jumped from his broom while it was still a good four feet in the air but hit the sandy ground without a flinch. She ran for him, grabbed him and pinned him tightly within her arms, trying hard to smell him like he was smelling her, trying to remember and never forget what he smelt like, what he felt like. For a brief spell in time, he had left her again. He had laid at her feet with eyes wide and impassive. She had pushed her lips up against his, as if to revive him, to give all the life she had in exchange for his. She had been crippled again. She had felt more than dead. She had been bitter and dead and colorless. Like autumn.

Now she put her face into the crook of his neck and sobbed, pulling her beloved tightly into her and asking that he never let go.

"Didn't know she was such a crier, Moony," a voice rang out, "You told me she was strong."

Remus laughed a bit and continued to hold Tonks firmly, "It comes from meeting you I guess, James. That'll do anything to a person."

A small chorus of chuckles broke out before the sound of Ted's screams were heard from across the field, "Are we playing Quidditch or are we playing Quidditch!"

"Right-y-oh!" Sirius and James called before jumping onto their brooms and flying off again. Peter followed closely behind, running to keep up with them. Lily too ran after the inseparable pair, linked arms with James and even found herself a broom.

Still, there stood Remus and Tonks, not daring to let go. Between a few trace sobs, she muttered something into his shoulder.

"Come again?" Remus asked.

Lifting her head up to face him, Tonks said, "I'm a right awful chaser, love. Mind if I play keeper?"

"Be my guest," he grinned before bending down to put his warm lips against hers, "Be my guest."


End file.
